Yet still serenely shine the midnight stars, And there are wonders left us to behold,

If we but think to look between the bars.

EDMUND C. STEDMAN.

7ILL it be always night?

WILL

God knows how drear

Is earth's poor trembling light.

Will He not hear

Each whispered prayer, and note each falling tear?

Will it be always night—

Cold night and lone?

Shall I ne'er see the light

From His white Throne

A glimmering light to guide me, trusting on?

Heaven hath no night!

It hath no waning day!
But pure and brilliant light

Shineth for aye.

No weary pilgrim seeketh there the way.

NETTIE VERNON.

UT of the sunshine, warm and soft and bright, out of the sunshine into darkest night,

I oft would faint with sorrow and affright,

my

hand;

Only for this I know He holds
:
So whether led in green or desert land,
I trust, although I may not understand.

Beside still waters? No, not always so;
Ofttimes the tempests round me blow,
And o'er my soul the waves and billows go.

But when the storms beat loudest, and I cry
Aloud for help, the Master standeth by,
And whispers to my soul, "Lo, it is I!"

Above the tempest wild I hear him say,

"

'Beyond this darkness lies the perfect day;

In every path of thine, I lead the way."

So, whether on the hill-tops high and fair

I dwell, or in the sunless valleys where
The shadows lie, what matter? He is there.

And more than this; where'er the pathway lead, He gives to me no helpless broken reed,

But his own hand, sufficient for my need.

So, where he leads me I can safely go;
And in the blest hereafter I shall know
Why, in his wisdom he hath led me so.

ΑΝΟΝ.

WHAT

WHAT though before me it is dark,
Too dark for me to see?

I ask for light for one step more :
'Tis quite enough for me.

Each little humble step I take,
The gloom clears from the next;
So, though 'tis very dark beyond,
I never am perplexed.

And if sometimes the mist hangs close,

So close I fear to stray,

Patient I wait a little while,

And soon it clears away.

I would not see my further path,
For mercy veils it so;

My present steps might harder be

Did I the future know.

It may be that my path is rough,
Thorny, and hard and steep;

And, knowing this, my strength might fail,
Through fear and terror deep.

It may be that it winds along
A smooth and flowery way;
But seeing this I might despise
The journey of to-day.

Or if I saw a weary length

Of road that I must wend,
Fainting, I'd think, "My feeble powers
Will fail me ere the end."

And so I do not wish to see

My journey or its length :

Assured, that through my Father's love,
Each step will bring its strength.

Thus, step by step I onward go,
Not looking far before;
Trusting that I shall always have
Light for just one step more.”

THE BRITISH MESSENGER.

I

TRUST thee, O Father, Thy word cannot fail, But storms are about me, the night-winds prevail; I'm alone in the darkness; Oh! lead to the way, Where I may cast anchor and wait for the day.

I sure must find harbor, or may it not be
The tempest shall drive to a safe open sea-
The winds proving friendly to pilot the way
Where I may cast anchor and wait for the day.

Black clouds are above me, O God, what a sight The lightnings reveal in their flash of clear light! Rocks all around me, Oh, where is the way? Right here I'll cast anchor and wait for the day.

I trust in God's word, in his love, in his might;
He sees in the darkness as well as the light,
Not a rock in the sea but He knows its lay;
I'm anchored in safety and wait for the day.

MRS. L. S. MILLS.

ID not life's darkness dim our sight;
Its sorrows hide Thine own sweet light,

How much of goodness could we see?

How much of love that tells of Thee ?

POTTER'S AMERICAN MONTHLY.

E are waiting, Father, waiting,
Through the long and dreary night,
Watching 'mid the gathering shadows,
For the morning's promised light;
We are trusting, Father, trusting,
Though no ray of light appears;
And the night is filled with glory,
Though we see our God through tears.